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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24633871">To Be Castiel Winchester</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Grace_28'>Grace_28 (orphan_account)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>My Destiel Heart [9]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst with a Happy Ending, Castiel and Dean Winchester Behave Like a Married Couple, Castiel and Dean Winchester Falling in Love, Castiel is Protective of Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, Dean Winchester is Protective of Castiel, Fluff and Angst, Healing, Hurt Dean Winchester, Leader Dean Winchester, Love Confessions, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Mentions of Slavery, Military, No Underage Sex, Soldier Castiel, War</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 01:09:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,782</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24633871</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Grace_28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The war is over. Countries are counting their losses. People are mourning over their lost ones. And in the middle of it all is Castiel Winchester, an emotionless man whose only purpose was to fight. And to serve his leader, Dean Winchester, who has been mysteriously absent and who had left Castiel wondering what love truly was.</p>
<p>Or in other words- the journey in which Castiel finds out what it really means to be a Winchester</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel/Dean Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>My Destiel Heart [9]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1487138</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. To Be Castiel Winchester</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi guys! I know I've been really inactive lately, but that's just because of online school. Now that the term's over, I'll be able to post a bit more. Please enjoy and let me know what you guys think in the comment sections! I love hearing from you guys!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>He looked out his small window. The fight was over— </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span> fight was over. As both a soldier and as a human born of war. The period of war is over, his country has won. So far as he is concerned, Castiel’s life work was finished. He knows that he has no purpose other than to wait for his leader— no, for his family to take him away from this secluded place. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dean</span>
  </em>
  <span> to take him away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As Castiel blankly watched the birds fly by and the leaves rustle, he vaguely wondered why Dean had not visited him. Many times when they shared a tent, Dean expressed how much he wishes that they made it out of the War alive. And he often expressed that if Castiel was ever in trouble, Dean would be there to protect him. To save him. To help him grow. Like a family could and would.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel looked down at the empty sheet of parchment that laid in front of him. It was time. He needed to tell Dean his findings. He exhaled sharply and picked up the quill.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Dean</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I am writing to update my position. The hospital has noted that I am to be released, though I know that I will be unfit for battle. Regardless, I will try and report for duty the moment that I am released. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Yours, Castiel</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He folded the paper in half and doodled on it mindlessly. Castiel ended up sketching a small squirrel, an animal that Dean had shown favor towards. He smiled a tight-lipped one and slowly put his feet on the wooden tile. He sighed when he fell and a clear clang of metal was heard. The loss of his torso and arm was just a casualty of the war.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I need to deliver this,” he chastised himself. He needed to put this in the mailbox so Dean would know that he was still alright when he decided to come for him. Wincing, Castel made his way towards the door, which slammed open into his face and made him fly back a few feet. He winced once more upon hearing the sounds of metal.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My apologies! Are you alright?” Castiel didn’t bother replying as he picked himself off the floor. He stared at the strange man, his hand instinctively reaching for a sword that was not there. The man watched his movements and smiled in a friendly manner. “I’m Lieutenant Gabriel. Gabriel Morningstar. Do you remember me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes sir."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I recognize him. He’s two ranks higher than Dean</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Castiel realized. He immediately straightened his back and saluted. He peered over the Lieutenant’s shoulder and squashed the feeling of disappointment that waved over him. “Where’s Dean?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lieutenant immediately paused and shot a glance at the nurse who accompanied him. “Who?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Major Dean, sir.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“... Dean was discharged honorably. As you know, the war has ended.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I see. So he is doing well?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” Lieutenant promised. Castiel smiled softly. That’s wonderful. It means that Dean is safe.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s a relief.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes. And Castiel, you will be discharged from both the hospital and the army. Dean has left you in my charge,” Lieutenant declared. Castiel narrowed his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“In your charge,” he echoed. Eyes widening, he panicked. “Does Dean no longer need my aid? I can convince him that I can still be useful— I mean, familial-wise.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He ordered that you would be taken care of while he is on business elsewhere,” he explained. Castiel relaxed considerably. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dean isn’t throwing him away… </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I see. So he will be back for me,” Castiel exhaled. Lieutenant winced, something that he found odd but didn’t dare to point out. After all, it would be rude to chastise the Lieutenant, who will be taking care of him until Dean returns.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“... Yes, so please don’t worry.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel smiled. The nurse smiled at him kindly and placed a set of clean clothes on his bed alongside a large box. “Mister Castiel, here are all of your belongings. As soon as you are ready, we will discharge you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looked at the box and opened it slowly, peering inside. He wasn’t quite sure what he could expect. He knew that he didn’t have many belongings, especially since most of his things must have been lost in the last battle. But when he saw the beige trenchcoat, he exhaled sharply.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It was snowing. White specks floated down from the sky gracefully, bringing the cold along with it. The coldness damped their shoes and made everyone around them shiver distastefully. Dean had complained about it though he was the most excited to have a snowball fight. Castiel wasn’t exactly sure what to think of it, but Dean declared that Castiel had won fair and square.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Later on, Dean placed the trench coat over his shoulders. “It’s cold. And it looks good on you,” Dean huffed as an explanation. He had questioned if Castiel felt cold now, but all Castiel felt was warmth. It was the type of warmth that just pooled in one’s stomach, but one never knew the meaning of.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Cas!” Dean beckoned him over a few minutes after they shared a cup of hot chocolate. Castiel walked towards him and stopped in front of the stall where his family was. “Isn’t this cool?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Castiel narrowed his eyes at the small bracelet charm that Dean held in his hand. He didn’t know what could possibly be colder than the weather that they had to endure. It turned out to be a piece of silver that appeared to be a small rifle. Castiel reached for his sword, fearful that it was a real one that could go off and hurt all of these people, but Dean shook his head. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“It’s harmless… Y’know what? I’m going to get you this.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>This struck him as odd. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Why?” Castiel inquired. Dean sheepishly grinned at him.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Um ‘cause it’ll be awesome?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“It will also be unnecessary in battle,” Castiel protested uselessly. He knew he didn’t have a say in it, as they were family. Dean rolled his eyes. He purchased it and, alongside it: an exceptionally long chain.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“C’mere Cas,” Dean ordered. Castiel stepped closer and Dean tied the necklace around his neck. Holding it up with one hand, he gawked at it curiously. He still didn’t understand the appeal of carrying a piece of jewelry around. But it was a gift. A gift from </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>Dean</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>. Meaning that it must be special. “It’s not like anyone will see it underneath that coat of yours. It’ll be your new good luck charm.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“You gave it to me. You told me that you liked my coat.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Dean chuckled. “That I did. But I said that it looks good on you. Big difference. Just make sure you keep it clean, buddy.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It was an unwanted reminder of the time when Castiel spilled some beer and spent several hours fixing the stain on his uniform. Castiel scowled, but he nodded. “I will. Thank you for the gift, Major.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Dean,” he automatically corrected. Castiel smiled as Dean reached over towards another charm. “Anyways, let’s get more of them. A necklace with only one charm is no necklace at all.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“... alright,” Castiel caved. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Dean’s emerald eyes seemed to explode with hopefulness. It was unfair that he would use such a tactic against Castiel, especially since Dean knew that Castiel couldn’t disagree with whatever he wanted now. “You’ll wear it, right?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Of course. You went under the trouble of purchasing it for me.” He paused. “You also put it around my neck already. I have no say in the matter.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Dean laughed and, together with Castiel’s help, began purchasing some more charms. They went home with four more, which Dean had promised many times was going to be ‘good luck’. Dean had attached the charms onto the chain expertly. As they walked home, Dean explained the meaning of each of the charms and Castiel made sure to listen attentively. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“The gun’s because we’re fighting this together. We’re going to fight with everything we have, and we’re going to bring down those poor bastards. You and me against Heaven, Hell, and Earth. Count on it, angel.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“The wings are ‘cause you were named after an angel, Cassiel. That angel was the most courageous and the most loyal, in my opinion. Plus, my mother always told me that angels were watching over me and trying to keep me safe. I guess I’ve been making their job difficult.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“The smiley-face means that we’ll both be happy once the war is over. It means that everyone deserves to be happy and I sure am happy that we’re in this together. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“The kitten’s because you said that you liked them. You told me that they were elegant and they never lost their composure. I want to be like a cat one day— no, Cas, that does not mean I want to become a cat. I want to be like one, not be one. Stop looking at me like that.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“The burger’s because it was the first meal we shared together. Sam was being a dick the day we met so we didn’t get to properly meet. The day afterwards, we ate burgers down the street and that’s where you told me that you missed burgers while you were out in the field.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“The jacket’s just ‘cause it’s so cold here. It symbolizes the first day that we met. That was the coldest day of December, right? Oh, it’ll also remind you of the day that you had your first hot choco off-duty with me,” Dean finished. Castiel stared at him silently. Eyes suddenly widening in embarrassment, Dean looked away.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“...” He was somewhat pleased— if that was what the feathery feeling in his stomach meant— that Dean had put so much thought into the gift. “Why didn’t you get a necklace?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Why? ‘Cause I don’t need one,” Dean scoffed. “I’m a badass and badasses don’t wear necklaces. ‘Cept for you, of course.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Dean, not all ‘badasses’ are immortal. Perhaps…” Castiel’s voice trailed off. He saw Dean’s side glance and immediately stopped. “Sorry. It’s not in my place to suggest that we should both have good luck charms.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Dean’s eyes widened slightly and he immediately hushed him. “No! No no no it’s fine. We can come back one day and we can match all you want.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“... Really?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yeah. Promise,” Dean swore. Castiel’s chest suddenly felt a few tons lighter.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Thank you, Dean. This makes me… very happy,” he struggled for additional words. However, it seemed as though Dean didn’t need those extra words. He immediately threw his head back and laughed— a true sight to behold.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Dean grinned and slung an arm around Castiel’s shoulder. “Awesome.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where’s the necklace?” Castiel muttered to himself as he searched the trenchcoat’s compartments. When he came up empty, he sent an accusing look towards the Lieutenant. “Where’s my necklace?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know. Those were all the belongings we found,” Lieutenant replied. He had taken a step back, seeming somewhat shocked that Castiel cared about a gift that Dean had given to him— which, by the way, is ridiculous. Castiel treasured all of the items that Dean had given. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m going back. I need to find it sir,” Castiel declared. He stood up indignantly and pulled the trenchcoat around his shoulders with more effort than he’d like to admit. But Castiel wasn’t about to let something so insignificant affect his decision.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, Castiel.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I need to find it sir,” he repeated. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lieutenant chastised him, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Castiel…</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please, sir. It’s very important to me. Dean had given it to me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Very well then. Castiel, I’ll search for it in your place. In return you have to try your best to accommodate yourself to a peaceful lifestyle,” Lieutenant spoke of concepts that Castiel didn’t understand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Peaceful?” he repeated slowly. He cocked his head in confusion. Lieutenant sighed, shaking his head in disappointment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Start by calling people by their first names.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can’t do that sir. They aren’t family.” Castiel rejected the idea of ever calling anyone else by their first name. Dean was important. Castiel was given warmth and care, like </span>
  <em>
    <span>family</span>
  </em>
  <span>, so other people are insignificant compared to Dean.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lieutenant sighed again. “Fine. Just come with me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes sir.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hours later, they were in a small city in Illinois. Castiel was formally introduced to his room, where it was nice and tidy. Lieutenant helped him carry the box, setting it next to the bed. “You’ll start working tomorrow morning. Today’s just about getting used to the city and settling in.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“... What will I do sir?” Castiel asked. Soldier? Weapons designer? Tools enhancer?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t worry about it for now. Do you want a guide for the city?” Lieutenant asked. Castiel shook his head ‘no’.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sir. My sole purpose is to work. I don’t need to be anywhere else.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lieutenant smiled weakly. “I thought so. Then just relax.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What is that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Relax sir. I don’t understand that order sir.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jesus Christ,” Lieutenant huffed. “Take a rest then. Sleep.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel listened closely and nodded. He saluted. “Understood sir.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Make sure you eat some food and take a shower. I'll be here tomorrow morning to pick you up."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Understood sir."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Good night," Lieutenant said, though he looked a bit uncomfortable. Castiel cocked his head, considering the possibilities of what might have made him uncomfortable. He thought that he could be of help, but the Lieutenant waved him off.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once the door closed, Castiel was alone. With nothing to do and no hunger in his stomach, h</span>
  <span>e laid on the bed. He remained totally still, somehow unable to sleep. There were several beats of strange silence and then Castiel sat up, shrugged off his trenchcoat, and hugged it tightly. Some voice in his head said that this would allow sleep to find him quicker, but it didn't. Castiel's eyes remained wide, a strange feeling pooling in his gut.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel frowned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What exactly was this heavy feeling?</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. To Be Castiel Winchester</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>“Cas! Stop, goddamn it!” Dean shouted. Castiel froze, cloth falling from his tightly enclosed hands. “You’re fucking injured!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What…?” Castiel wondered aloud. He looked down to see that one of his main organs had been severely damaged. He was bleeding, yes, but nothing caused him more agony than seeing his family suffer from a terrible wound. “Dean, I need to get you to safety.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“No. Cas, you— you listen to me.” Dean coughed, more blood spilling from his lips. Castiel’s eyes widened and, without meaning to, Castiel lifted Dean up and began moving as well as he could. There was a bullet that shot through his leg, but the feeling of tearing skin was not worse than Dean’s condition.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I need to get you to safety,” Castiel repeated. He chanted that mantra as he moved agonizingly slow. Eventually Dean choked out a sob, eliciting a curse. “Dean?!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Castiel set him down, hiding them behind a tall pillar. He took out his gun and fired two shots into the air— the signal for medical attention. And then he reloaded it and started shooting at the enemies who tried to damage them further. Castiel evaluated Dean’s chest, where the blood didn’t stop flowing.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Crap,” Dean hissed.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Dean.” Castiel ripped his shirt using his teeth, hands preoccupied with shooting. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Damn if that wasn’t hot,” Dean choked out a broken laugh. Castiel sent him an odd look, though he assumed it was a compliment.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Dean. Please stop laughing. You should stop the bleeding.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Cas, you know I’m not going to—”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Castiel ignored him, throwing a grenade where the enemy fire was coming the harshest. He shielded Dean away from the debris and then took Dean’s pocket knife to eviscerate a charging enemy. His method worked fairly well, that is until he realized that there were too many of them to take from his angle. “Dean, I’ll be back. Stop the bleeding!”</em>
</p><p><em>Castiel ran out, grabbing the attention of the enemy snipers.</em> <em>He inhaled deeply and then raised both of his arms. He started shooting, and he was only vaguely aware that one of his arms had been dismembered. His mind couldn’t comprehend the pain when all of its alarms were going off and screaming for him to do one thing: protect Dean.</em></p><p>
  <em>Once all of the snipers were gone, Castiel ran back to Dean, who now had a bloody rag tied around his waist. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Cas. I need you to listen to me.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“There’s going to be an explosion.” And then all Castiel could hear was intense ringing. “I need you to run.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“No,” Castiel rejected firmly.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Cas, you lost your arm, your feet are going to give out, and you have multiple bullet wounds. You need to run.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What I need is to bring you with me,” Castiel hissed. He grabbed Dean’s military jacket with his teeth, his only arm working to stop the enemy fire. They were nearly at the exit. They were right there. And then their planned exit was blocked.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>The only other one left was to go out the window, but if Dean jumped with him, he wouldn’t make it.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“There’s going to be an explosion!” Dean repeated. Castiel ignored him, using all of his strength and will to bring Dean with him. He didn’t want to leave Dean here. He didn’t want to run. “You need to jump, Cas!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’m not leaving you, Dean!” Castiel could hear himself plead. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Cas. You don’t have a choice,” Dean hissed harshly. For the first time in his life, Castiel felt something went drip down his cheeks. He shook his head quickly.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You said I did. And I’m not leaving you.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Stop! Castiel Winchester!” Dean barked. Castiel winced at the use of his full name. His legs gave out, making the two of them collapse against the stone cold wall. He sobbed, using his hand to hold Dean’s body weakly. “I won’t make it if we jump and you know it.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“We don’t know if we don’t try!” Castiel argued uselessly. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Cas. I want you to live, okay? Find something to live for. I want you to be happy and I want you to see all the beautiful views that you’ve never seen before,” Dean spoke more softly this time. Castiel leaned instinctively into the outstretched hand, it’s warmth spreading throughout his body. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“<span class="u">I love you.</span>”</em>
</p><p>Castiel gasped, breathing heavily as he sat up in his bed. He instinctively reached for his sword, his military skills heightened. He missed so he launched himself out of his bed and searched frantically for another weapon. When his body and mind realized that he was not in any form of danger, he relaxed. And then he looked at the clock, taking note of the time. Castiel put his jacket over himself and raced outside.</p><p>Dean always said that it was easier to breathe outside.</p><p>And if Dean could claim something like that, it must be true.</p><p>He walked around town, memorizing the streets and the directions he walked in, that is until he stopped in front of a typewriter shop. It was petite and the items on the display were antique, but there was just something about the typewriter that made him realize that maybe Dean didn’t respond because Castiel’s handwriting was bad. Castiel decided he would one day purchase that typewriter. That must be what Dean meant by finding something to live for… </p><p>“He just taught me how last year,” Castiel muttered. He sighed, looking away from the display.</p><p>“What the— Castiel? What are you doing out so early?”</p><p>He grabbed for his gun, only easing when he realized that it was the Lieutenant. “Good morning sir.”</p><p>“Yeah. Good morning… are you ready to go?”</p><p>Castiel blinked. And then the events of the night before dawned on him and he nodded. “Yes. Who will I be working for?”</p><p>The Lieutenant ushered him down the street with a smile. </p><p>“Me,” Lieutenant announced proudly. And then his face was red and he looked away. “Well, actually, you’ll be working for an associate of mine, but my associate works for me.”</p><p>“Understood.”</p><p>“Er, anyways, you’ll be helping your colleagues in interpreting other people’s thoughts into words.”</p><p>“... Do you mean onto paper?”</p><p>“No. More like you put yourself in their shoes and you speak aloud how they might be feeling. More of like a therapist per say.”</p><p>“I don’t understand what a therapist is sir,” Castiel said simply.</p><p>“Jesus Christ.”</p><p>“But I assume they help others with their emotions…?” Lieutenant looked at Castiel as though he had just won another war.</p><p>“Yes! Just like that!”</p><p>“Understood.” They spent the rest of the way in utter silence. Castiel assumed it was because Lieutenant was trying to be considerate of his thoughts towards working under a new person. But he didn’t exactly know how to say that Lieutenant shouldn’t be without going against what Dean had wanted.</p><p>And so, when they reached a brick building that appeared to be abandoned, Castiel was surprised when Lieutenant spoke up again. “I forgot to mention that you don’t need to call people sir or miss here. And don’t salute or give them any extravagant titles. Just call them by their given names and bow politely.”</p><p>“Understood,” Castiel confirmed. He decided that if he couldn’t refer to people by the most respective terms, he would refer to them by their last name, another form of respect that he was taught in books. Or by however they wished to be adressed as. </p><p>"This is the break room, where you can eat and rest… This is my office in case you need me… And this is where you’ll be working,” Lieutenant introduced him to all the main points of the building. A few people greeted them as they passed, but Castiel was so preoccupied with memorizing the locations that he didn’t exactly realize others were there. He only paused when he realized something was amiss in the number of the Lieutenant’s building’s rooms.</p><p>“Where is the training center?” Castiel asked innocently. Lieutenant stopped and turned.</p><p>“We don’t have one. I thought you knew that workplaces don’t usually have one.”</p><p>“No. The military always had at least one training center to train at. Workplaces are strange—”</p><p>“So you mean to tell me that you’ve never been outside the military?”</p><p>“I have. With Dean. He took me around most of the cities that we fought nearby,” Castiel said. “I don’t understand the break room.”</p><p>“Eating and resting?”</p><p>“Yes. I’m well aware of both of those conditions, but I don’t understand why it’s called the ‘break’ room. How can eating and sleeping be considered a break? They are two conditions in which you are most prone to enemy attacks, as your defenses are down, so how can a room like this be considered a ‘break’?”</p><p>He paused. “Do your workers break objects inside? Or use military tactics against one another to heighten defenses?”</p><p>“... you can call it the rec room?” Lieutenant sighed, hand covering his forehead. He suddenly appeared tired.</p><p>“Rec ?” Castiel asked with a slight frown.</p><p>“It’s short for recreation.”</p><p>“Well, that doesn’t make sense either. What exactly do you plan on recreating in a ‘break’ room?”</p><p>“Castiel. Just… How about you just go there whenever you’re hungry or tired?” Lieutenant sighed. Castiel nodded. He could do that. However… </p><p>“I’m rarely tired and hungry. Both conditions are seen as weaknesses in the military. I don’t trust eating nor sleeping around others.”</p><p>Lieutenant sighed again. He opened the closed door leading to where Castiel would be working, and two heads popped up from behind their desks. One of them had light brown hair and amber eyes and the other had short dirty blond hair and a champagne glass in his hands. “Guys. This is Castiel. He’ll be working with you guys starting today.”</p><p>“Welcome to the party!” the shorter and more hyper looking one shouted. “I’m Gabriel. That’s Balthazar. He’s kinda grumpy if you don’t give him alcohol.”</p><p>“Hello—” Castiel almost referred to him as ‘sir’, so he stopped himself. </p><p>“Well, don’t forget to teach him what to do now,” Lieutenant warned. Castiel turned to look at him, confused. He didn’t realize becoming a therapist required training. Lieutenant had just said that they didn’t have a training center… </p><p>“Won’t, boss!” Gabriel did a salute.</p><p>“Lieutenant, you said that I shouldn’t salute,” Castiel accused. Lieutenant sighed again.</p><p>“Have a good first day, Castiel.”</p><p>That, Castiel could do. “Understood.”</p><p>And then he was alone with Gabriel and Balthazar. While Balthazar dropped some books in front of him and went back to drinking champagne, Gabriel provided a thorough explanation of what exactly he would be doing. That is, he provided a more understandable one than the Lieutenant had.</p><p>“Understand?” Gabriel asked. Castiel nodded.</p><p>“Yes. Thank you.”</p><p>“Good. If you need any help, ask Balthazar—” Gabriel paused. “On the other hand, just ask me. Guy’s too busy getting drunk.”</p><p>“Why is he…?”</p><p>“Oh, that’s ‘cause his big bro passed. They weren’t close or anything and Balthazar doesn’t really care, but he, as one might say, is taking advantage of the situation,” Gabriel explained. Castiel nodded.</p><p>“I see.”</p><p>With that, Castiel was left to do his first job: sorting out files. He picked up the first one, which was about a man named Pierce Kingston, and swiftly placed it in the ‘K’ box. His work was painstaking, which was due to the fact that Castiel became curious about who these people were exactly. So he read the files as he sorted them, only glancing at those who appeared to be undergoing peaceful situations. Soon though, he realized that some of these people had visited more than once so he had to go back and sort by name. </p><p>By the time Castiel was finished with his work, it was late in the evening. And only he and Balthazar remained in the building.</p><p>“You’re still here?” Balthazar drawled. There was still that same champagne glass in his hand only instead of yellow liquid, it was red. “You should’ve left hours ago.”</p><p>“I’ve completed my work,” Castiel declared simply. Balthazar leaned towards him, eyes widening a bit.</p><p>“Why, yes you did,” Balthazar said. “Did you not take a break or eat lunch?”</p><p>“I don’t eat around others.”</p><p>“Oh.”</p><p>“Good night,” Castiel said. He retrieved the trenchcoat he had removed hours ago and bowed a bit to Balthazar. He seemed a bit comical, with his wide eyes and relaxing hands. Castiel paused in front of the door. “Maybe you shouldn’t drink so much,” he suggested. “It makes it difficult to get home safely.”</p><p>Dean had explicitly told him so when Castiel tried to chug a bottle of beer. </p><p>“Er… fine. Good night, Castiel.”</p><p>"Good night.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. To Be Castiel Winchester</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The next day, when Castiel arrived at work, he was ushered out.</p><p>“You’re done for the week,” Gabriel said. “You finished all your work so go take walks or something until next Monday.”</p><p>Castiel nearly threw Gabriel over his shoulder for handling him, but he quickly realized that touching one another was considered alright here. Especially since the war is no longer looming over them. So he simply nodded and began his journey around town, by the request of Gabriel.</p><p>At some point, Castiel walked into a secluded alleyway, where a man was being beaten up by a group of thugs. Castiel rushed over, helping the man up to his feet.</p><p>“Thank you,” the man hoarsely whispered. Castiel nodded. </p><p>“Look, guys. Ain’t they a match made in heaven?” one of the groupies snickered. Castiel ignored them. </p><p>He helped carry the man by gripping his side and lifting him up so he didn’t need to put pressure on his beaten legs. For some odd reason, Castiel was reminded of the time he’d done the same thing for one of the men who’d had their feet exploded off.</p><p>Well, more like Dean had helped the man and Castiel had wondered about it. When Castiel asked, Dean bought him an anatomy book and helped explain why that man had needed help. And then Dean had made him promise to help anyone that might need help in that way.</p><p>“Hey bitch. I’m talkin’ to ya,” one of the groupies hollered. “I still got business with the bastard. Bring ‘im back here.”<br/>
Castiel ignored them once again. </p><p>However, they didn’t even make it back on the main road before they were stopped by grabby hands and rude attitudes. So for the first time in his life, Castiel was in a street fight. It didn’t last long— the rest of the group ran off once Castiel had slammed their leader against the wall and incidentally broke some of his bones. Feeling a bit guilty, Castiel helped carry the leader with his other arm.</p><p>Minutes later, when Castiel finally realized that a hospital was technically a clinic for injuries, they arrived in the Illinois Hospital. The nurses rushed both men into the E.R. and pulled Castiel aside, asking for his information. Sadly, Castiel couldn’t exactly answer any of them so they needed to call his employers-slash-closest-companions. Within a matter of minutes, Gabriel and Lieutenant waltzed in.</p><p>While Lieutenant stared him down— probably to decide how to punish him— Gabriel was the first to say something. “I told you to walk. Not get into a petty fight.” He sighed. “Seriously… How the hell did this happen?”</p><p>“I saw this man in an alleyway. He was being beaten by a wooden bat and he appeared to be seriously injured. I tried to help him get here, but those people tried to hurt me along with him. So I used my hand to push the leader aside, but ended up using too much force. He broke his spine,” Castiel explained.</p><p>Lieutenant sighed, seemingly speaking his first words of the day. “Castiel, I’m disappointed that you got into a fight and injured another person. But. Good job. You protected someone and defended yourselves from a dangerous person.”</p><p>‘Was he really so dangerous if he was defeated so easily?’ Castiel wanted to ask. Instead he voiced his other thoughts.</p><p>“Lieutenant, I…”</p><p>“I don’t need a guilty confession—”</p><p>“No, something is happening sir. And I’m not quite sure what.”</p><p>Lieutenant stopped. “What? What is it?”</p><p>“There’s this… I have this thing in my chest. It keeps telling me to visit that other man and… and—”</p><p>“Apologize? Say ‘I’m sorry’?” Gabriel guessed. “Well, hate to be the one to tell you, buddy, but that’s guilt alright. And Michael kinda just said he didn’t want that.”</p><p>“This thing is guilt?” Castiel frowned. He put an arm over his heart, trying to understand the feeling more. Then his eyes widened. “Well, if this is guilt, then what is it like to be happy? To be sad?”</p><p>They exchanged glances.</p><p>“Shouldn’t you know what those things are?” Gabriel asked. Lieutenant jabbed his side harshly.</p><p>“Fuck— Michael, why the hell did you do that?”</p><p>“Castiel, I know that you might not know what these emotions are, but I hope you’ll learn to point them out from here on.” Lieutenant smiled softly. Frown deepening, Castiel found another question stirring in his mind. What Dean said had been bothering him since the moment he woke up.</p><p>“I don’t… I don’t know. Lieutenant, can’t you just explain to me what they are? Dean— he’d said something about love. What is it like to love?”</p><p>“That…"</p><p>“Mr. Winchester? Mr. Douglass would like to see you now,” a nurse piped up. On instinct, Castiel turned. Then he sent a glance towards Lieutenant.</p><p>“Winchester?” he repeated. That was Dean’s last name. Why… why was she addressing him this way?</p><p>“When Major Dean created that certificate for you, he didn’t know what to put as a last name. I suggested that he put his own as yours. It stuck,” he explained briefly. Castiel nodded.</p><p>“I see.” He turned back to the nurse. “And by ‘Mr. Douglass’, do you mean the man who was beaten or the man who broke his spine?”</p><p>“The first,” the nurse said with a smile. “You can step in now. He specifically requested to talk to you.”</p><p>“Oh.”</p><p>Castiel looked inside the room, the man smiling at him softly. He stepped inside and stood at the end of his bed. “I… My name is Chase Douglass. I know I was a bit out of it, but I’m pretty sure I picked a pretty bad fight with them. So, um, thanks for saving me.”</p><p>“It was no trouble,” Castiel replied quietly. Dean had always told him to say that whenever people were thankful. Dean had always said that some people think that they owe you something when you save their life, but in reality, you just helped them because you wanted to. And was that what Castiel had experienced when he chose to save this man? Did he <em>want</em> ?</p><p>“If there’s anything I can do to help you…”</p><p>“No. Sir, please just rest,” Castiel said. “Though, I am curious. Why were you there in the first place?”</p><p>“Er, like I said, I picked the fight. But originally I was there ‘cause I wanted to get drunk— to forget, y’know? My little sis had to take care of me all the time and I hated that she had to. It sucks to know that someone else has to give up everything for you. Just wanted to do something on my own for a change.”</p><p>Castiel understood the feeling that someone had been doing too much. Dean had, after all. He’d housed Castiel since a few years ago, named him, gave him his first beer, led him into battle, taught him how to write, taught him how to read, how to think for himself… he’d even bought him gifts Castiel wasn’t exactly sure what he should do with. He’d done other things for Castiel, most of which he was certain that he didn’t exactly deserve.</p><p>But what Castiel couldn’t understand was why he would want change? Why did he want to do something by himself? Didn’t he understand just how important his sister was in his life? Didn’t he understand that the only thing she wanted was for him to be alright?</p><p>"And you decided to fight someone?"</p><p>"Well... yeah. I can't really do anything else," Chase sighed in exasperation.</p><p>“Maybe…” Castiel said without even meaning to. He watched Chase’s expressions carefully. “Maybe you should try to take more responsibility. Isn’t that all you can do when it seems as though there is no hope? No man has ever been so reduced to nothing that they cannot complete a simple task, a simple wish even. If you cannot live for yourself, do it for your sister."</p><p>“...”</p><p>“And… Mr. Douglass, if you truly wanted to ‘help me’, you should take better care of yourself.”</p><p>Chase seemed to be speechless. Then his mouth stretched into a huge grin. “Yeah. Thanks.</p><p>They sat in a few moments of comfortable silence. Castiel wasn’t exactly sure of how to do small talk. Dean never got to teaching him that— in fact, now that he thought of it, there were many things that Dean never got to teach him.</p><p>
  <em>Dean shouted his name over the crowd. He had two glasses in his hand, liquid sloshing everywhere as Dean tried to maneuver through the crowd. Castiel could only wait as his Major walked towards him with a nasty scowl. “Stupid humans,” he hissed.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He tried to keep his face neutral, though Dean caught on pretty quickly. “Don’t make fun of me. Damn it, Cas." </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’m not,” he promised. The smirk on his face claimed otherwise.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Fine. Whatever. Drink up,” Dean shoved a glass towards him. His cheeks were lightly tinted— probably because he already had two glasses before this. Not wanting to disappoint, Castiel started to chug it. It tasted bitter and it had Castiel coughing. For some reason, he thought that Dean was trying to poison him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Dean,” he muttered weakly. His companion laughed.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Don’t drink it like that, dumbass. Of course it’s going to hurt,” Dean managed to say. Castiel stared at him silently. “C’mere, buddy. I’ll help.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Because I’m family?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yeah. And ‘cause we need to celebrate your 18th birthday properly.” Castiel rolled his eyes as Dean slowly instructed him what to do. Castiel followed along and found that the beer tasted much better than it did before.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Dean,” Castiel interrupted, “you know that it’s not actually my birthday right? I don’t have one.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Yeah, well, this marks the third year since you came home with me,” Dean reminded him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Oh.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Unless… you want a different day?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“No. Today’s a good day,” Castiel said. Inside, he felt like he was flying. Dean had found this day just as important as Castiel had found it. This was the best gift Dean could have ever given him for his new birthday. Granted, the last two birthdays, Castiel had been in a box and nameless, as well as fighting in battle. But even those days were special. All days with Dean were special.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Awesome,” Dean sighed and grinned. “I’m glad to hear that.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Dean… what’s it like?” Castiel couldn’t stop himself from asking. Dean hummed in reply. “What’s it like being ‘glad’?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Dean froze. He set his glass down. “You mean being happy?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yeah.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Well… when you want to smile, I guess. I’m not really good at explaining things like feelings, Cas. Sorry.” Dean looked away, walls building up again. However, Castiel had gotten used to these things and asked Dean to look up. In a way, Castiel had felt guilty, if he was truly going by what Lieutenant had said.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It’s okay, Dean. Let’s just celebrate,” he attempted to cheer him up. Dean immediately smiled.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You’re right, Cas. Today’s a good day. But, don’t forget this. I promise you that I’ll find a way to teach you all about this kind of crap.” Chest lightening immediately, Castiel could only watch as Dean took another sip from his glass, finishing it. </em>
</p><p>“Chase…? Oh, thank god.” Dropping a bouquet of pretty flowers, a young woman in blue burst into tears. “Are you okay?”<br/>
Castiel stared as the scene unraveled.</p><p>“... I am. Now. It’s all thanks to him,” Chase replied. He jerked his head towards Castiel, who awkwardly waved at the young woman. He wasn’t exactly sure of whether or not those were ‘happy’ tears, ‘sad’ tears, or ‘something else’ tears. Crying is such a complex action.</p><p>“You saved my brother?” So they were family. Like Dean and him were. When Castiel realized she awaited an answer, he nodded and she launched herself towards him. He awkwardly patted her back, unsure of the proper way to react to a foreign touch. “Thank you so much. Thank you.”</p><p>“It was no trouble,” Castiel repeated his former statement. The young woman nodded</p><p>“Thank you.” She turned back to Chase and playfully smacked his chest. “You had me worried, you stupid son of a bitch.” </p><p>Castiel’s eyes widened at the insult.</p><p>
  <em>“You crazy stupid, son of a bitch!” Dean shouted. It was his birthday as Lucy, his maid, said. Castiel had avoided Dean for a few hours, sticking in the kitchen and baking him a pie— something that Lucy said that Dean would be thrilled to receive. Instead, he started crying.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Dean…?” he asked slowly. He felt a strange tug in his chest. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Happy tears, bud,” Dean stopped him from saying anything further. “Told you about these before. Remember?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yes, Dean.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Jesus, when did you even have the time to make this? It’s perfect,” he said. Dean licked his lips upon looking at the pie and then looked up at Castiel in awe. “If I haven’t told you this before, I’m saying it now. I love you, Cas.” </em>
</p><p>For some reason, his chest felt really light when Dean praised his baking skills.</p><p>“You must be very good friends,” Castiel remarked.</p><p>“We’re family.</p><p>“We’re a family, Cas. And families don’t leave each other behind.”</p><p>“I see.” Castiel stepped out of the room, claiming to want to give them space. They appeared to be a wonderful family, like he and Dean were, so they deserve a bit of time to cherish one another. He turned to Gabriel, whom had tapped his shoulder twice.</p><p>“Let’s go, Castiel. I’ll take you home.”</p><p>“Home?” With Dean? </p><p>“Yeah. What street do you live on?” Gabriel asked. Castiel blinked slowly.</p><p>“A street with cement?” he replied awkwardly. He hadn’t realized that there were multiple different types of ‘streets’.</p><p>"Sighing, Gabriel shook his head. “Alright buddy. Do you know the way back to the place where you‘re staying at?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Then I’ll drive you there.”</p><p>“Thank you.”</p><p>“No prob. And Castiel?”</p><p>"Yes sir?”</p><p>“Next time, when I tell you to take a day off, I don’t mean for you to get into a street fight. Understand?”</p><p>“Yes sir."</p>
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